Chapter Eight The Pearly Gates

Chapter 8

The Pearly Gates

The first daemon pushed its large bulbous head through the misty clouds.

“I see the pearly gates!” Rachel shouted to the ten or so daemons waiting at the foot of the ladder.1There is a little-used maintenance ladder from Heaven to Hell. This Dear Reader is where the story of Jack & The Bean Stalk comes from. Jack, hungry, starving, and running on fumes made a poor decision when he traded his milk cow for magic beans from a well-disguised daemon who had a hankering for roast beef and milk. Poor Jack was the stooge of a prank cooked up by a couple of daemons who convinced an angel to play the role of the giant. The angel involved was sent to Purgatory, Incorporated for bad behavior, and sentenced to customer service duty. This job was not much better than fly spy duty.

“Is anybody watching? Is Peter there? What do you see Mabel?” shouted a daemon from below.

“I don’t see anything!” Rachel replied. “C’mon up!”

The rest of the daemons made their way up the ladder and stood on top of the surprisingly springy puffy cloud stuffs.2On Earth, humans believe that it is impossible to stand on a cloud. It defies all logic. In Heaven, physics, science, and some would say logic doesn’t exist. This is the place where it’s all made up, both science and the “how the world really works” theories. The delivery system is managed by Ninja angels who whisper these notions into unsuspecting human’s ears while they nap. HCTN (Heaven Cable Television Network) is the home of reality shows such as The Earth is Flat vs. The Earth is Round and the Humans Are The Only Intelligent Lifeforms in the Galaxy vs. Aliens Abducted Me. God, who won’t admit this publicly, loves these shows. However, His Almighty admits that the latest reality show called Pandemic took things to new levels of ridiculousness. HCTN hasn’t had ratings like this since Jesus vs. The Romans. A few of them rolled around. Some tried to snuffle the cloud wisps which made them sneeze. When they finished playing in the puffy whiteness, they began walking toward the pearly gates.

Two angels were on duty that fateful day. Unfortunately for Heaven, they were two bored angels who pulled the short straw for pearly gate duty.3It is mind-boggling to imagine just how many pearly gates there are to get into Heaven. This makes Saint Peter’s job quite difficult. He’s no Saint Nick who can bend the rules and be everywhere at once. Saint Nick rubs Saint Peter’s rhubarb the wrong way with all that holly jolly nonsense. According to Saint Peter, he should have taken that job versus this “Keeper of Keys to The Kingdom” gig. Saint Peter’s staff consists of suspect angels (instead of adorable elves) who have to dress up like him to help manage the influx of beings trying to enter Heaven. It was much better than being a fly spy. They wondered how their partner in bent halos, Babs was faring on her mission in hell. They didn’t envy her one cloud wisp. No one liked being a fly or having to stay in Hell for long. That sulfur smell stayed in your wings for weeks.

“Hey,” Becky said elbowing the angel next to her, “What are those lumbering through the clouds?”

Karen placed a monocle over her left eye to get a better peek. “No WAY!” she exclaimed, “It’s daemons!”

“Really!” Becky squealed. She always wanted to meet one of the rogue daemons they heard so much about in their daily briefings.

Becky whispered to Karen. “You be Saint Peter, okay? You do Saint Peter drag so much better than I do. Remember the beard! And a grumpy face!”4Saint Peter has become rather cranky of late dealing with the overwhelming amount of privilege wielding (usually on the pale side of the spectrum) humans named Karen, Susan, and/or Becky. You can always tell when there’s one in line. They carry a soapbox tucked under one arm, are haughtier than a Hellion, and easily agitated, especially if someone takes out their phone to film them. They give Saint Peter migraines. It’s rumored Dear Reader that Saint Peter has taken to assigning an angel to his post while he hides inside the podium drinking something fruity and bubbly.